


Mary the Matchmaker

by caffeinated_pens



Series: My Teen!Lock, Kid!Lock, and Uni!Lock Things [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Dancing, M/M, Mary Ships It, Prom, School Dances, Teen Molly Hooper, Teen Mycroft, Teen Mycroft Holmes/Teen Greg Lestrade, Teenagers, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 19:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinated_pens/pseuds/caffeinated_pens
Summary: “I’m only here because you made me.  Do you really have to make me socialize as well?”“Yes.  Now you have three seconds to take your pick, or I’m choosing for you.”“Mary!”“Ooh, he’s cute!”“Are you referring to thecaptainof thefootball teamwho is currently dancing with agirl?”“So you think he’s cute too?”





	Mary the Matchmaker

“Morstan...”  He spoke in a warning tone, his voice and face the epitome of seriousness.

 

“Holmes.”  She grinned at her friend and sipped her punch as they stood in the corner of the dimly lit gymnasium.  “I’m not letting you go the entire evening without dancing.”  
  
“I’ll dance with you then, problem solved.”  He was started to get frustrated.  Mary in no way cared.

 

“Dancing with a cute guy.”  She rolled her eyes.  “You know, one who you are attracted to in the sexual manner, so to speak.”

 

“Mary, I really don’t see why this is a big deal.”

 

“Because, it is your senior prom, and goddammit, Mycroft, I’m getting you a date!”

 

“You do realize that I have no interest in that?  You and my brother are the only two people in this wretched school who are anywhere near my mental abilities and capable of providing me with entertaining conversation.  Not to mention I have been shoved into a locker at least once by nearly everyone here.”

 

“Oh come on, there must be one guy here you think is cute that’s never given you a swirly.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“If you can bluff this well, then how the hell am I still beating you in poker?”

 

“Leave it be, M.”

 

“Not a chance, H.”

 

“I’m only here because you made me.  Do you really have to make me socialize as well?”

 

“Yes.  Now you have three seconds to take your pick, or I’m choosing for you.”

 

“Mary!”

 

“Ooh, he’s cute!”

 

“Are you referring to the  _ captain  _ of the _ football team  _ who is currently dancing with a  _ girl _ ?”

 

“So you think he’s cute too?”

“Morstan, I swear to the non-existent god…”

 

“I shall take note of whatever empty threat you were about to make.”

 

“He’s dancing with a girl, M.”

 

“A very pretty girl too.  A very pretty girl who has been checking me out all week.  Molly Hooper, I think it is.  Looks like we’ve both got our targets.”

 

“Please don’t do this.”  His pleas were too late, for in the blink of an eye, Mary was walking over to Greg Lestrade and tapping on his shoulder.  Molly and Greg turned to look at him, and instead of bursting out into laughter, Greg began approaching him, to both Mycroft’s terror and delight.  Molly fidgeted awkwardly at first, but then began grinning when Mary took her hands.

 

“Mycroft, right?”

 

“You know my name?” He slipped back into his default icy expression as he stared at the gorgeous creature in front of him.

 

“Kind of a hard one to forget.  Dance?”  He extended a hand and offered a slight smile.  And for a minute, there was nothing Mycroft wouldn’t give to take that hand, to smile back, and to dance the night away with the most beautiful man he’s ever encountered, but he has to think.  He has to think about how caring is not an advantage, and how Gregory is just trying to be nice because he is a kind person, and how later, he’s going to laugh with all of his popular athletic friends about how the freak has a crush on him.  Caring is not an advantage.

 

“Look, Gregory…” he sighed, “Mary is just… She really wants me to dance with someone tonight, but I don’t mind being by myself… Just go back to dance with your girlfriend and-”

 

“Just friends.  Besides, I think your friend has captivated her interest.”  
  
“Regardless, you have no need, nor moral obligation to-”  
  
“Mycroft Holmes.  I am starting to get offended, I am a proud and honest man.  That means when I ask a bloke to dance, I always mean it.”  He kept his hand out, and Mycroft hesitated before taking it.  He felt nervous as Greg placed an arm around his waist and slightly raised their intertwined hands.  He wasn’t like his brother, he knew nothing more about dancing than what he’d learned from books and movies.  Mycroft slipped an arm around Greg’s neck, like he knew he was supposed to do, and he felt their feet gliding before he could fully register that they were dancing.  He was dancing with Gregory Lestrade, the handsomest boy in the school, the subject of many a late night fantasy and wet dream, the star football player, the most perfect person in the world.  He couldn’t help but feel like this was a sick joke, like someone was going to start laughing, like Greg was going to shove him away and hoot ‘as if!’, like this incredible moment was going to end, and end in tears at that.  “You okay, love?”   _Love_.  This was perhaps one of the first times Mycroft had spoken to this man.  Did he just go around calling everyone ‘love’?  Mycroft really hoped not.  He swallowed, unsure of how to handle the situation.

 

“I- Er, yes fine.”  Greg chuckled.

 

“I’m taking things a bit too fast aren’t I?  I should at least ask you out first.”

 

“A-Ask me out?”

 

“I was thinking we could get dinner or something, if you’d like that.”

 

“That… That sounds lovely.”

 

“Good.  You ready for this?”  Mycroft had barely started to ask what he was or was not supposed to be ready for when he felt their hands raise higher and their other hands intertwining so that Greg could pull his hand back exactly right and… He went with it, twirling unashamedly with their fingers locked.  “Never done that before.  I’m not a very great dancer.”

 

“Neither am I.”

 

“Well at least I’m not alone there.”  That was when Mycroft felt a gentle brushing against his lips.  He kissed back eagerly.

 

He’d definitely have to thank Mary later.


End file.
